


We're Going to Be Fine.

by GoTeamMonarch1



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe, Avengers Family, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, New Asgard, Rehabilitation, Slow Build, Supervillian's Anonymous, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24818794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoTeamMonarch1/pseuds/GoTeamMonarch1
Summary: All Olive had hoped for, when returning to Earth years ago, was a quiet life with her new unconventional family. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Avenger's weren't willing to let her live in peace. Olive could try to protect her foster kid from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s half-assed attempts of rehabilitation, but she wasn't holding her breath. Between identity crises and poor coping habits, Olive wasn't going to catch a break any time soon. All she asked for was a little support, and what she got was a whole new set of problems.The one where everyone learns that being a family is hard work, and sometimes takes time.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Don’t forget your coat, kiddo.”

“Ugh. Why do I have to go to _school_?”

“You know exactly why. So, stop dragging your feet.”

They’ve had the same conversation every morning for the past three years. He didn’t want to go to school because they treat him differently. To be fair, he was very different from them; physically speaking at least. He looked like a square-headed roided-out baby, with a heavily wrinkled chin. His personality was not fairly represented by his physique. He was a sweet kid; even if he was kind of a crybaby.

“But-”

“No buts about it. You’re going because you are required to go.”

Olive watched her child throw a small tantrum at the door. He usually didn’t react this strongly; flailing his arms at his sides and stomping his small feet on the doormat. Even to this day, Olive was unsure of what to do in these situations. This responsibility had been foisted on her at the tender age of seventeen. A teen-mom without the benefit of having done the act to result in a happy accident. No, she acquired this surprise while trying to do the “right thing”.

“ _Please_ stop making that face, pick up your jacket, and pick up your bag.”

“You _hate_ me.” He moaned miserably, “You wish I was _dead_!”

They looked nothing alike, barely tolerated each-other most of the time, and every day it seemed to get harder and harder. All Olive wanted to do was get this kid out the door and to school. She knew it sucked, because school inherently sucks; kids are mean.

“I wanted to go to Xavier’s school!”

“We’ve been through this.” Sighed Olive kneeling down to button his jacket, “I’m sorry. You can’t go to that school. We tried, and… It just didn’t work out.”

His beady little eyes welled with tears as he silently shook. Biting his lips in frustration he bitterly mumbled, “I’m not like any of the kids at my school. It’s not fair.”

Olive gently embraced the child with a tired sigh and felt him go slack against her. Little sobs wracking through his body and she felt a pool of tears starting to stain her jacket. She knew he was right; it was not fair. He was different from other kids, and he could benefit being with kids under similar circumstances. As compelling as her argument was, during the appeal process, the school held onto their decision firmly. He did not fit the qualifications to be enrolled into Xavier’s School for Gifted Children; he was not an “enhanced human”, a.k.a. mutant. He was technically an extraterrestrial humanoid being. So essentially he was not _human_ enough for them; so much for the tolerance they always preached about with pro-mutant lobbying. Apparently being different was only okay if you weren’t _too_ different. However, she was not at all surprised, she too had unpleasant interactions with mutant-kind. 

“How about” began Olive as she broke the embrace, “we play hooky today, and Monday? We can have a four-day weekend, go out to the cabin, and see if we can maybe visit your uncle?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty rough at work too. They can handle it without me for a few days.”

He was full-on smiling now, and his little teeth were poking out behind those thin lips. His small eyes lit up, and his cheeks flushed with relief. Avoidance of problems may seem like a poor coping mechanism to instill into a child. However, even Olive had to admit that he had a near-abusive relationship with his peers. The level of negligence of his teachers was obvious to even him. Who lets their class pretend that their classmate, who is sitting right in front of them, is _dead_ for the _whole school-year_.

“Let’s go pack our things, shall we?” She felt him accept her outstretched hand, and led him back to his room.

“Can I take my Star Lord costume?”

“Hmm…” hummed Olive unsure.

“Please!” he begged as he held up the costume in one hand and matching mask in the other.

“Fine.” She watched as he jumped around in excitement, and tried to smile along with him. His favorite superhero was Star Lord, and the irony was not lost on her. He loved putting on his little costume and pretending their cat, Rocket, was his sidekick. Olive had to admit it was quite clever to name their Maine Coon, Rocket Raccoon. The cat was as dumb as a box of rocks, but he did love following the kid around. The little loaf tolerated being dressed up surprisingly well.

“Why didn’t you have named me Star Lord?”

Olive rolled her eyes at the suggestion. His real name wasn’t even Star Lord; it was Peter Quill. Which, in her opinion, was a very, very boring name. She had met him a handful of times, and each time the meeting was more hostile than the last. The last time she saw him was while visiting her brother, and he basically screamed in her face with his hands around her neck. Peter Quill was the last person this child should be idolizing, and she hoped he never had to learn that first-hand.

“Star Lord is a very ugly name.”

“My name is _way_ uglier.” He replied tossing more clothing onto the pile on his bed.

“What’s so ugly about it?”

“I could have been an Anthony, or even a Sebastian. I would have accepted Steven or Stephen, both spellings would have been fine. I think Star Lord would have been the best name for me.” He looked up longingly at the pictures of his hero littered across his walls, “One day I’ll go back to space, and we’ll go on adventures.”

“Well I think you have a beautiful name. It’s a name that was given to you _in_ space. If anything, it makes you way more authentic than any of those other names.”

“It’s a bad name. My classmates said so.” He lamented looking at his reflecting with contempt, “I don’t want it anymore. You could have changed it, why didn’t you?”

“Well, that’s the name you had when I found you. So, that’s the name I went with.” Olive folded his clothes into a small suitcase, “I think it was important to acknowledge your roots.”

“Does a _past life_ count as roots?”

  
Olive had to admit that calling it a “past life” was pushing it. If one is essentially Benjamin Buttoned back to infancy in a two-minute accident does it count as a past life? If they’re memory was telepathically wiped does that make them a new person? Those were the main argument presented during the court cases that followed their return to Earth.

Grabbing him by his shoulders, Olive looked into his violet eyes and firmly stated, “Honey, your name was given to you by your first family. They named you that with purpose, and that was the name you carried for a lifetime. You are living a second life now, and this is an opportunity to live happily. To live in peace, with me. So, don’t ever be ashamed of your name.”

“Ugh” he replied as Olive got up to collect his toiletries, “Thanos. What a terrible name. Everyone at school calls me Thanos The Anus.”

_Ring-ring… Ring-ring… Ring-ring… Ring-ring…_

Olive was dreading the phone call, but she expected it nonetheless. Leaving town was something she needed permission to do, and she knew that. Olive use to get away without placing formal requests, but it seemed that Agent West wasn’t very forgiving _or_ understanding.

“Agent West, how can I help you today?”

“Don’t start with that, Olive. Why am I just now finding out, _from a field agent_ , that you’ve packed up and left town?”

Olive noted that he sounded more sensitive than usual today. She could imagine his cheeks flushing with anger, or that little vein that always popped up on his forehead. Ever since Agent Coulson went strictly on “Avengers duty” she has been stuck with Paranoia Agent. He constantly thinks they have some sort of doomsday device; like even at the grocery store. He didn’t tolerate any “misbehavior” from the kid. Especially if she let Thanos stay home instead of going to school. Agent West was a firm believer that if Thanos is unable to assimilate to society, then he would eventually become dangerous. “I’m just taking Thanos to see his uncle. Things have been hard at school, and I think he would do well with receiving some counsel from him.”

“ _Counsel_? It’s interesting that you use that term.” Olive could faintly hear him tapping against his desk. Another annoying habit Olive noticed about him after the _millionth_ summon due to an “infraction”.

“He’s having a hard time coping with the concepts of rejection and isolation.” Sighed Olive in annoyance. He was trying to blend in with children who he looks nothing like, and they are very aware of his past indiscretions thanks to a grown woman _outing_ him to the media.

“Huh.” Agent West clicked his tongue at the curt explanation, “Alright, okay, I can see where you are coming from. Counse _ling_... I think I have _just_ the solution.”

“Solution?” echoed Olive uncertainly.

“Just head to the training grounds, and it should be starting when you get there. I’ll head that way too.” The abrupt click at the end of the statement startled Olive back to reality. Frustrated, she tossed the phone in the passenger seat muttering obscenities. 

“Everything alright?” asked Thanos from the backseat; not even bothering to look up from his doodling.

“Looks like we’re being _summoned_ straight to the training center.” So much for a relaxing long weekend at the cabin. All Olive wanted as for Thanos to have a few non-traumatic experiences in his lifetime. That was one of the main points that were made in the court cases; that if rehabilitated, then he could integrate into society. 

“At least we get to see Uncle Sage.”

“Yeah.” Olive’s twin was Thanos’ second favorite hero, much to Olive’s annoyance. Again, the irony was not lost on her about his preferences. In truth, the original Thanos was not fond of her brother, and by the end of the altercation he probably hated him. Sage was half of the reason that Thanos was in this situation to begin with, and the reason she was in this whole mess.

“Like, how cool is it to be able to control people’s minds like that? He hears everything! He can see your whole life in a second; he doesn’t even need to touch them! Ugh, you could have named _me_ Sage. Or Basil! Or Oregano!”

“Is that right?” Responded Olive dryly.

“They changed the front!” exclaimed Thanos pointing at a massive sign that read “No Trespassing” obstructing the entrance.

“Oh lovely.” Muttered Olive throwing the car in park, “It looks like we go on foot from here, kid.”

“Can’t you just move it?”

_Just_ move it? Olive bit back a bitter laugh as she flung her seat-belt off. She hadn’t been able to do any such thing for a few years now, and it was thanks to their reintroduction to Earth. After Thanos’ case, she was forced to use the Mutant Cure as a condition of being able to care for him. It was the most unpleasant part of her week, and with each injection her empathy for humanity fades away. 

“No, I can’t… not anymore.” And probably never again.


	2. Chapter 2

“I apologize for the long walk, ma’am. They _just_ told us you were headed this way, and it looks like the storm did a number on the entrance.”

Steve Rogers was by far Olive’s favorite Avenger; to interact with, at least. He was always formal, polite, and always kept the small talk to a minimum. He was obviously very handsome as well, and that’s always a perk.

“Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I’m here by request of Agent West, and Thanos is here to speak to his uncle.”

Steve’s flinch at Thanos’ name was subtle, but she still noticed it. Olive has endured many reactions to Thanos’ name; often, it was an angry outburst. At times Olive wondered if Thanos ever noticed the ones who got by with a subtle flinch. She could tell that Steve was always conflicted when it came to them. During the trial, he had believed her to some extent, or, at least enough to advise the world to _not_ immediately execute them.

“Ah, yes.” Steve awkwardly cleared his before motioning for her to follow him, “We were briefed on the project, and I’m really excited that it’s beginning. I’m glad to hear that the two of you will be joining us.”

“Oh, um, I don’t exactly… Um..” This was mortifying, but not totally uncommon. Agent West usually did not disclose many details of the _activities_ that they were assigned to. He did not deem it necessary, and legally it wasn’t. Their lives were directly related to how much bullshit they were willing to deal with. The only saving grace they had was that being a social justice warrior was very popular lately, and a good amount of the public didn’t quite want child-Thanos dead yet. It’s not like he had succeeded on the whole world, or universal, domination thing.

“It was a last-minute arrangement.” Finished Olive lamely.

“Ah. I see.”

They were brought into the indoor gym area, which was cleared of the usual gear and clutter. Instead a circle of empty metal chairs covered the mats, and it seemed a small table was set aside for refreshments. Olive groaned as she rubbed her face in frustration, “Steve, is this where we’re meeting?”

“Oh, yeah. Does it look okay?” Steve rubbed his bicep self-consciously, “They asked me to set up the room for some reason. I thought… I thought that maybe I could make it look like the meetings I, um, go to… with Sam.”

This looks like an A.A. meeting, and something that will probably _not_ therapeutic to a child. This is the type of set up you give people who are shooting up heroin on the daily, and _not_ someone actively going through childhood trauma. Olive could see Thanos needing therapy; it’s not like she’s in denial about the situation anymore. She just always assumed it would be with a _very_ specialized therapist, which is why she pushed so hard for him to attend Xavier’s school. She definitely _hadn’t_ expected that he be a victim to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s budget cuts.

“Oh God, it’s awful, isn’t it?”

Olive turned to face a visibly panicked Steve Rogers; his face flushed and a sheen of sweat building on his forehead. Captain America was embarrassed about his ability to decorate a makeshift group therapy room. No, _America’s sweetheart_ was practically in _tears_ and she was just standing there gawking at him.

“No, of course not Steve.” Olive placed a gentle hand on his broad shoulder, “This looks great. I was just shocked… I-I didn’t realize what Agent West sent us here for… Um… It’s still not super clear to me what we’re doing here.”

“It’s really ok? Not too _old fashion_?”

Olive couldn’t help but chuckle at him; she hadn’t expected him to be so genuine. Clearly Steve had put a lot of thought and effort into this, and Olive recognized that. “No! Steve, it looks wonderful, and the goodie table is such a nice touch.”

“I didn’t make it all. Bucky did most the work… we _really_ want this work out.”

Ah, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. The main reason Steve had been even somewhat amicable towards the idea of Thanos’ rehabilitation during the trial, was to eventually bridge that grace to him. Even after she was transported with the original Thanos, the Winter Solider was still at large and placed back into hiding. After they had won the case, it opened the gate for many other past “supervillains” to be reintroduced into society. Olive found it fascinating how many groups who had advocated _against_ Thanos had their own black sheep in hiding.

“It looks perfect, Steve. Thank you for your hospitality, and I’m sure Thanos would love to try a cookie.” Olive gave Thanos a light push towards the well-stocked table; with a huff, he got the picture and trudged away, “Count you give me any details about this… meeting?”

“They really didn’t tell you anything about it?” Steve took her annoyed expression as clear no, and continued, “It was Sam’s idea… kind of. He said therapy is the best way to deal with stuff, and group therapy could really help them.”

“What do you mean by _them_. What _kind_ of therapy is this supposed to be?”

“Agent Colson called it Operation: Support System, Sam calls it Reformed Supervillain therapy, and Bruce calls it group psychotherapy.” Steve seemed uncomfortable

“Who is running this therapy?”

“Oh, it’s-…”

“Me.” Olive quickly spun around and found herself face-to-face with Bruce Banner, “They thought I was a good fit. Since the Other Guy’s didn’t exactly start off as a hero, and I guess now we are.” Bruce’s sarcastic finger quotes over the word “hero” was not lost on Olive; she knew what it was like to go from being publically loved, to being hated, to being loved again. It could drive anyone to suicidal ideation at best.

“Dr. Banner, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” The last time Olive had seen him was on the last day of the trial. He was a moderate party, at best. He had been in favor of the idea of Thanos’ confinement, but not death due to the circumstances. “This… this _meeting_ that you’re running… What-what is it about exactly?”

“Today is less of a formal meeting, and more of a _mixer_.” Interjected Steve, attempting to ease her obviously growing anxiety.

“It’s not a mixer, Steve… It’s a support group, Olive. For, what the government considers, past offenders of attempted world domination or destruction… _and_ their loved ones.” Bruce didn’t sound completely convinced by this plan, but he was in the same boat as Olive. Either they comply or they die protecting their counterparts.

“Should I even ask who else was required to be here?” Olive was beginning to vibe with Bruce’s underlying pessimism. At least there was someone here with an equal amount of resentment and attachment to their counterparts. Steve was just so pure that he practically sparkled at the mention of Sergeant Barnes.

  
“They should be here any minute.” Steve’s eyes lit up as he excitedly waved Sergeant Barnes over. Olive was envious of their relationship; there were clearly still best friends. She and Dr. Banner shared an expression pinched with annoyance as they watched the two unite.

“Dr. Banner. Ma’am.” Barnes’ greeting was short and tight.

Soon, Olive found herself being herded into a chair next to Thanos by Dr. Banner. He was clearly attempting to remain calm as he directed more polarized pairs to their designated chairs. Steve, on the other hand, was trying to expend some of his nervous energy by placing nametags on the other guests’ chests. Many of them welcoming a familiar face, while others were mildly annoyed by the interaction.

Olive was surprised to see some of the pairs coming in together for this meeting. Spiderman had literally dragged in Deadpool in a giant web, and the mercenary was less than pleased by the nametag plastered on his forehead. She had heard of their recent team-ups through her brother, and apparently, Spiderman’s mentor wasn’t very supportive of it.

“Bruce! My friend!” Exclaimed a booming voice, “What a wondrous gathering! Look brother, they provide us with a feast _and_ humble seating. See! I told you this was a grand idea.”

Olive bit back a laugh as she watched his dark-haired companion vibrating with anger. Thor had his younger brother gripped firmly by the back of his neck as pushed him towards the group. Much like Steve, Thor seemed more excited about this activity than his counterpart.

“Let’s go ahead, and take a seat. I think we’re all here.” Bruce ushered the last guests to their seats and took his place at the top of the circle, “Now, I know that this a very exciting to some and a little anxiety inducing to others. So, maybe, let’s start with some introductions… Um… I guess I’ll begin.”   
  
Bruce stood from his seat to begin, “My name is Dr. Bruce Banner. I am a physicist, and several years ago I was exposed to Gamma radiation. After the exposure, I developed an alter-ego, whom we now know as the Hulk. When the Hulk first… _emerged_... he was a threat due to the vast amount of property damage and lives lost.” Taking a step forward, he gestured to his audience, “I am here, like all of you, as both a threat to the world and person just trying to live their life. I am here to comply with _the governments’_ demands so that I may continue to live my life.”

The room was completely silent, and everyone seemed to stare at Bruce completely dumbfounded. This was literally some cheap alcoholics anonymous knock-off. Everyone cringed at poor Bruce as he intently stared at Steve; his eyes begging for his friend to follow suit. Unfortunately, Steve was intently staring at Sergeant Barnes, who was trying to look at anything _but_ him.

“Wait a minute!” Loudly interrupted Deadpool, who had long ago escaped his cocoon and was currently trying to force himself into Spiderman’s lap, “So, this _isn’t_ going to be like Suicide Squad?”

“Get off!” growled Spiderman as he hopped out of his chair to avoid his friends’ advances, “Sorry, Mr. Banner. W-we can go next!”

Deadpool seemed to struggle against Spiderman’s grip as the latter held him in place by the forearm. “My name is Spiderman” cracked his voice spectacularly, “and I am here to support my friend, Way-… Deadpool. He’s a really cool guy, and I think he deserves a chance.”

After a few well-placed prods to his ribs, Deadpool finally followed his friends lead, “My name is Deadpool, and the only reason I’m here is because Spidey’s _sugar daddy_ is threatening to cut him off.”

“Wade!” shrieked Spiderman shoving the other man and frantically waving his hands to the rest of the group, “That’s not true! He’s joking!”

“I personally think he’s too old for you, Petey. Don’t be embarrassed! He should be ashamed, I mean, he was supposed to be the adult in this situation.” Muttered Deadpool sulkily.

“Shut up, dude!” Spiderman spun to Bruce desperately rambling, “I am so sorry, Mr. Banner. He does not mean that, um, I think maybe it’s just… nerves? He’s _really_ thankful for the opportunity, and he was just saying how excited he was to work with other villains-”

“Villains?” a silky-smooth voice interjected, “I don’t see _myself_ as a villain, Spiderman. I am trying to liberate my people from continued oppression from _human-kind_. The only thing I am guilty of is trying to protect my people.”

Sabretooth attempted to raise his fist in solidarity, only to have it shoved back down by a mildly annoyed Wolverine, “Keep your fucking hand down.”

Deadpool slowly pulled a sputtering Spiderman back into their chairs, and silenced the younger man by placing a hand over his mouth. If this was the type of anti-hero monologue that could take the spotlight off them, then Deadpool wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“There, there, Erik.” Soothed a gentle English voice, “I’m sure he meant no harm, and look, you got through the first step brilliantly. I’ll go next.”

Charles Xavier pushed his wheelchair forward to assert his turn and smiled pleasantly to the other members. That was the same polite smile Olive remembered when he reiterated that Thanos would not be appropriate for his school, and that it was his _deepest_ regret to deny the application. One of the main reasons Olive despised telepathic mutants was that even when they could _feel_ your heart breaking, they could just sit there politely smiling.

“My name is Charles Xavier, and I’m here to support Erik Leshnerr.” Charles lifted an elegant hand to cup his counterparts’ face playfully, “Some of you may also know him as Magneto. While often misguided, Erik’s dream is for mutant-kind to live without fear.”

“Stop it, Charles.” Hissed Erik gently twisting out of Charles grasp, “this is ridiculous.” Erik continued to mutter irritably under his breath as Charles playfully tried to shush him. Eventually, Erik sank back into his chair and fixed a glare to anyone still looking their way. Specifically, at Thanos, who has been unable to tear his eyes from Charles Xavier since the moment he rolled up.

“Ok.” Bruce attempted to regain control of the room, “Let’s go ahead and, uh, have another volunteer.”

“Oh! Oh!” At this point, Olive wasn’t even surprised by her rotten luck. She hasn’t caught a break since she was sixteen years old. In fact, she has long accepted that the worse possible would always be the outcome when Thanos was involved.

“I’m ready!” Shouted Thanos, standing excitedly on his chair, “My name is Thanos, and, uh, thank you for letting, um, me come. I’m here to support my mom, and to help her get better!”


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s not that I don’t want to help, Olive.” Sighed Sage through his nose, “I just don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Talk to him!” It was only the first day together, and Olive was already frustrated with her brother’s nonchalant attitude, “How can we expect him to _assimilate_ if he never has basic human experiences. I mean, this whole situation with his class is out of control, and I have no support.”

“Kids are mean, and _you_ of all people should know that better than anyone.”

“That’s a low blow, even for you.” Olive’s twin always had a penchant of throwing the past in her face, and she resented him for it. He was always a saint compared to her, and their parents always doted on him for being the “prophetic” child. Olive always thought everyone had romanticized his abilities, and he just kind of exploited their belief. How can you be considered the “bad” one when you already know what the other person thinks? You could just fine tune your answers to their expectations.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Sage playfully tugged on a lock of his sister’s hair.

“Please talk to him, Sage.” Olive quickly gathered her brother’s hands with her own, “Please. I think it’s been a disappointing few years from him, and he’s dead-set on returning to space. I’m just scared… I’m scared we’re funneling him right back on that same path, and no one wants to listen to me.”

Olive remembered the moment she went from a hero of mankind to their enemy. When she refused the execution of a four-year-old child to take place, and advocated for an actual investigation; rather than a witch trial. Everyone had assumed she was a pawn of Thanos upon her return and she was locked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. for re-education. After all, they had thought their precious martyr had been hypnotized, and everyone wanted to see her “cured”.

“Alright, alright.” Sage gently broke free from her, “I’ll talk to him. I know I haven’t been around him a lot lately, since I’ve been on the field. I just think that he’s going to have to come to terms with some people hating him… even if it’s not really fair.”

“Mom!” Thanos came skidding around the corner, face flushed as he excitedly began rambling, “You won’t believe it! You won’t believe it! They asked _me_ to hang out! The other _kids_ want to hang out with me _right now_! I need my backpack! I _need_ my backpack! Morgan asked me to bring one!”

“Wait, hold on, _who_ are you hanging out with?”  
  
With a huff Thanos stopped rummaging through their bags to face his mother, “Morgan! Also, Nathaniel! They said we should explore some of the forest! I’m going on an _adventure_ with _other kids_!”

“That’s so great buddy, do their parents know that you guys are going?” Turning to her brother for assistance, Olive continued, “It might be dangerous in the forest. You know they do a lot of practice drills out there, and there’s probably some equipment out there.”

“Mr. Stark was there when she invited me! So, I guess he knows. He didn’t say anything. Oh! So was Spiderman! He said hi to me an everything!”

On one hand, Olive was very relieved that Thanos _finally_ found some kids who were nice enough to let him play with them. On the other hand, it was two of the Avengers children who invited him to play; and it was two of the Avengers who directly lost loved ones during their altercation.

“Alright, be careful, and don’t do anything dangerous, ok?” Olive called after him, as he disappeared from the room with his backpack in one hand and their overweight cat tucked under his arm.

“Well at least that solves one problem.” Commented Sage upon the exit of his nephew.

“And creates maybe, like, ten more.” Moaned Olive, burying her face into her hands, “Oh god, why Stark and Barton’s kids?”

“Those are some of the only kids here.” Chided Sage as he noted the time on this watch, “And, aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting now?”

Giving her brother a hurried goodbye Olive left to see Bruce for some, as Agent West described, “much needed _counsel_ ”. Apparently, the sessions would be recorded and reviewed by agents. Agent West was very disturbed by Thanos’ synopsis as to why they were there, and wanted her screened for potential mental health problems. Funnily enough, they did not want a mental health professional to check her; that would be far too logical. They wanted Dr. Banner, a _physicist_ , to screen her.

“Dr. Banner.” Greeted Olive as she entered his area, “It’s always a pleasure.”

It seemed that Bruce already had some company with him; Peter Parker and Steve Rogers were seated across from Bruce. Both were looking away from each other, and their expressions were equally distraught.

“Thanks for coming by.” Bruce gestured for Olive to take a seat with the other men, “I know you had some apprehensions about being, uh, checked by me… I totally agree that, uh, maybe a psychologist should be brought on-board, but I think S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to keep this project _top secret_.”

Nodding passively, Olive took the seat next to Steve Rogers and quickly smiled at him. Realizing that the man at her side was doing everything in his power not to look at her, Olive quickly glanced away. His ignoring her likely had to do with his red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Clearly the agents weren’t feeling very comfortable with his first session either.

“All of you were brought here, because during your first group session there was some _concerning_ behavior.” Bruce rolled his eyes at the word as he read a set of pre-written cue cards, “Steve, you had a very emotional outburst during the meeting. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Well, um, I guess I felt overwhelmed.” Replied Steve thickly, “I just wanted Bucky to feel supported as a part of the team _and_ as an individual. I didn’t want him to feel like a criminal.”

“So, during our session, when did it feel like he was accused of being a criminal?”

“When…um… wh-…” Olive watched sympathetically as Steve hung his head to hide his tears, “He was compared to the others… Bucky is a hero, and he was taken… Hydra made him like… this…”

“Wayne isn’t a criminal either!” Peter Parker jumped up with a flushed face and teary stare, “He might have been doing it wrong in the beginning, but he’s always been _against_ the bad guys!”

Somehow America’s sweetheart and the rookie got into it during their first session. It all boiled down to what their definition of a criminal was; which seemed to become the focus of the session. Is someone who had been fully aware of their crimes, but changed their ways still count as a hero? Were they an anti-hero? Does it only count if they were unaware of their crimes? From then, it boiled down to was it considered a crime by our terms as a society? What if the crime if the act was committed while protecting a “less desirable” population that were facing hate crimes?

“You’re _gatekeeping_ the superhero identity!” shouted Peter at Steve’s outraged face.

“I don’t know what that means!” roared the older man in return.

“Alright! Alright, break it up.” Bruce intervened as he gently guided both men back into their seats, “I think what we have here is a communication breakdown. I think both your feelings are valid and we need to explore were the misunderstanding stems from.”

Both men settled back into their seats with identical expressions of exasperation, and each with their arms stubbornly across their chests. Clearly communication was not open or welcome; they had both totally shut down and seemed unwilling to speak.

“Ok, so from what I understand, the both of you consider your… _partner_ … a hero. You both define heroes and criminals differently. So, how about this…” Bruce turned to an encyclopedia resting on his desk, “Close your eyes, all of you, and I will read each definition. When the definition that you feel applies to your partner, then raise your hand.”

Olive reluctantly closed her eyes after receiving a stern look from Dr. Banner. Somehow she had been sucked right into the Avenger drama; this shit wasn’t even applicable to her situation. All Olive ever wanted was specialized help Thanos, like, someone to help him with basic coping mechanisms. Why was it impossible to get a child psychologist on board?

“Alright, a _hero_ is a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities. Raise your hand if that applies to the person you are to support.”

Olive could hear the rustling of the men on either side of her raising their hands. Bitterly, she couldn’t bring herself to raise her hand. It isn’t fair to have the expectation that small child somehow be a “hero”. He barely stopped wetting the bed six months ago, and is struggling with a complex identity crisis. Yeah, he wasn’t a hero, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good person.

“Okay, very good… Now, _if_ you raised your hand, keep that arm raised. I’m going to read the next definition, but first I want you to dig deep. Think about the same person, and _all_ the behavior they have _ever_ displayed; regardless of the intention or circumstance.” Bruce gave them a brief pause before continuing, “The definition of a _criminal_ is a person who has committed a crime.”

The question wasn’t fair, the set up wasn’t fair, and none of this seemed productive; for Olive’s situation, at least. Olive only raised her hand as an attempt to make this exercise go as quickly as possible. Thanos was not _currently_ a criminal, and she was not going to argue the logistics of it with them. She had spent years in court fighting that definition, and she wasn’t going to spend any more time justifying it.

“Okay, very good. Now, everyone, open your eyes.”

Olive opened her eyes and everyone, except her, had both hands raised. This was not surprising to her; these are narcissistic people with deeply set hero complexes. It was always Olive’s opinion that all “heroes” probably needed some therapy. Or, at least, an intervention regarding minding their own business.

“Alright. I think this is some progress. Um, think about this moment when you guys are arguing. You both feel that your partner is a hero in their own right, but they have had, what society deems to be, a criminal past.” Bruce lowered his arms and pocketed his hands, “I think we’re all on the same team here. We’re a little strung out and this _group therapy_ will probably get even more stressful… So, let’s get through it together by _supporting_ each other. Validating each other’s feelings, and listening to what _everyone_ has to say.”

Bruce finally signaled for them to lower their arms and it seemed that the boys were ready for reconciliation. Both were finished crying and Steve took the lead apologizing. After all, he was much older than the young man he spent the afternoon arguing with.

“Come on, Peter. Let’s go get dinner ready for the boys.” Peter jumped up in agreement and the two giddily exited the room. It must be so comforting to have a life so easily conformed to two definitions; she scoffed at them as they exited.

“Well.” Chuffed Olive as she attempted to slip out of her chair, “As _enlightening_ as that was…”

“Actually, that wasn’t for you. I think I can be a little more transparent with you, and I’d like to believe that you and I are similar.” Bruce gently guided Olive back to her chair and took a seat across from her. “Why do you think they wanted you to see me after group?”

“I can only assume it was because Agent West is concerned why Thanos doesn’t understand why he’s here. I personally, think it’s asinine since _I_ was never told what this was.” Olive felt bad snapping at Bruce, because it wasn’t his fault she was trapped in this hellhole.

“Olive, what if I told you that Thanos knew exactly why he’s here; without even needing to be told. He knew that he is here to support you, and to help you.” Bruce held his hand up at Olive’s indignant scoff, “Spend some time tonight thinking about why you’re here.”

“Thank you for your input, Mr. Banner.” Replied Olive with a tight smile as she stood to leave, “This has been very helpful.”

Olive hastily made her way down the hall, and hoped she could avoid any more run-ins as she fought against the frustrated tears threatening to fall. She didn’t feel necessarily attacked or, even, offended by her conversation with Bruce. Olive was used to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s nonsense, and she noticed the various binders and cue cards lying around the office. After Banner’s return to Earth he, like the Winter Soldier, had to go into hiding after Thanos’ disappearance. So, it seemed that Bruce was still doing “odd-jobs” to continue living in peace with society; it would be no fun to return to agent Romanov if he had to stay in hiding, she supposed. Olive was just tired of the same song and dance. 

“Brother, please, Banner is awaiting our arrival!” exclaimed Thor in frustration, “After tomorrow we can leave and we’ll be back in a week’s time! Is that so much to ask?”

“These meetings are ridiculous Midgardian nonsense! I am a _god_ , and I don’t need these mortals’ approval!”

“It’s the least you can do!” thundered Thor as he held the elevator open with one hand and attempted to pull his brother out with the other. The smaller man had latched his hands on the frame with an iron grip, and refused to let go.

“Release me, you oaf!”

Both froze as she awkwardly approached the only exit available. Thor’s scowl melted into a puppy-dog smile, and Loki’s sneer seemed to intensify; both reactions filled her with dread.

“Ah, Lady Olive. How good to see you again!” Exclaimed Thor as he flung his brother forward, “We are glad to see you and your _son_ joint us. We are very _thankful_ for Midgard’s ability to forgive and compromise.”

“Good to see you too, Thor.” Olive replied with a forced smile as she slowly made her way past the duo, “If you’ll excuse me.”

Olive couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with the brothers as she stiffly tiptoed past them. She desperately pressed the elevator’s buttons, and hoped the awkward conversation would not continue; it was no secret that she had no love for New Asgard or their kings. Part of Thor’s diplomatic approach to having his people assimilate with Earth was to provide S.H.I.E.L.D. with a space to conduct any “re-education” of wayward heroes. Unfortunately, it was during this time that she had returned to Earth and was transported New Asgard’s newly installed S.H.I.E.L.D. “embassy”. During the next few months she was restrained both chemically and physically, forced to watch hundreds of hours’ worth of “good Samaritan” training, and questioned using what would now be called “problematic” tactics.

“Miss. Olive! Miss. Olive! Miss. Olive!” a chorus of children shouted as they came skidding around the corner as the elevator door reopened; all of them covered in dirt and visible shaken. Olive could already feel the coffee from the refreshment table settling in the back of her throat.

“What happened?” Olive croaked as she realized that in the group of children that Thanos was nowhere to be found.

“Miss. Olive! Please come with us! He’s hurt!” Barton’s child urged Olive to follow him, “We didn’t know it was still on, and it just started shooting! He was trying to protect Morgan, and then they both fell in!”

“Where are they now?!”

“They’re still in the hole!”

“Did you tell any of the other adults!?”

“No, they begged us to get you.” Sobbed Nathaniel as they ran towards the back exit, “Morgan didn’t want Thanos to get in trouble.”

Olive, now panicking, barked for the rest of the children to alert the other adults. As she followed Barton’s child through the dense forest she couldn’t help but curse their luck. No one else’s’ parents knew what was happening, and would surely blame Thanos the moment they found out. Her stomach clenched as they arrived to a deep, dark pit in the ground. The hole was so deep that she couldn’t make out the bottom.

“What is this?”

“It wasn’t this deep when we left…” panicked Nathaniel as he leaned over trying to get a better view.

“Thanos! Morgan!” Their cries were met with deafening silence.


End file.
